Vigilante felt at the coarse fabric of the makeshift dress, frowning in mild disgust. She hadn't worn a dress willingly since she was torn away from her family. Ever since then it had been a means to an end. This time though it felt worse than ever, and she didn't want to contemplate why that was. She groaned as she realized that she couldn't keep the thought away. She didn't want Milo to see her in this.

"Vigilante?" Qumo called after her. She took a deep breath, readying herself to change and then go back.

"Just a minute," she called back. She proceeded to remove her clothing, carefully disposing of the small hoard of weapons they contained. As she let go of the last dagger she began to cringe with discomfort, feeling utterly vulnerable. She took hold of the dress and tugged it violently over her head. She sighed as she realized just how foolish this was. She wouldn't be able to hide a single weapon in this, at least not without some straps to attach them to her body. There were no pockets, just the loose dress that could have been mistaken for a bag with holes for her head and arms.

Angrily she reached for her clothes, her weapons, and went back to the others. The little courage she had built with the help of that anger quickly dissipated as she saw Milo's assessing stare. She was certain that he would say something, and he did, but not what she had expected.

"I'll go to the village myself to get her another set of clothes, she's no use to us in that condition, and we will need to use her if something happens."

Milo addressed it to Qumo, and for once she was glad to be left out of the conversation. She was relieved that he fought for her as she for some reason didn't feel comfortable doing it herself. There was this unpleasant feeling of shame that held her back from shouting at the top of her lungs at how much she hated to wear dresses, how much she hated to be stripped of her weapons: defenseless.

"I don't see how it would be better if you went alone?" Qumo answered. It could have been anger behind those words but she understood him better now: the N'aian was worried. Suddenly she realized just how irrational it would be to have Milo going into unknown territory alone just because she was a little uncomfortable.

"...I agree, it would be reckless to go in there alone. I'll find a way to attach a knife somewhere," she smiled reassuringly, hoping that she could discourage him from going off on his own. She would never forgive herself if he went in there for her sake, what if something happened?

Milo shot her a questioning look, a question he never asked. He turned away, urging his horse a couple of steps forward. "Well, then we should be heading off right away" he stated, and she felt that cold feeling returning to her chest. She hated when he did this, when he simply shut off. Then she became irritated, as she usually did.

"Insufferable" she whispered, not intending for him to hear, but of course he did. She couldn't believe why she did this time and time again. When would she learn that he could hear a lot better than herself. He gave her a look that made her glare back.

"Cut it, I won't have this if we're going in there," Qumo said sternly, making her feel like a child, which she guessed wasn't entirely incorrect at this point.

"If she would stop with this constant bickering, none would be happier than I!" Milo bit back, not looking amused at all. It seemed that the brief respite they had had just moments before was long gone again. Milo was back in brooding-mood.

"If you would stop feeling so damn sorry for yourself I would be a lot happier!" she retorted.

"I don't," he said angrily.

"Well, then I guess you're just prickly with your pride. Is that it? You want to be the hero all of a sudden? You want to go in there alone, saving the day?"

She stared at him, but instantly regretted it. He exuded anger like a towering cloud of thunder. Perhaps she should have apologized, but no. She steered her horse towards the village instead. However, she lost her edge right away as she realized that she really didn't want to go into that sorry excuse for a village with her life at stake. Sadly it was too late to turn back: she couldn't let fear conquer her.

"Wait Vigilante!"

She halted her horse at Milo's words. She glanced back over her shoulder and saw that haunting expression of anger and pain again that made her heart ache uncomfortably in her chest.

"Qumo, would you please give us a moment?" Milo asked.

"With pleasure, if you go further into the forest where you are less likely to be heard..." he replied making it was clear that he wasn't too happy with them shouting this close to the village.

"Vigilante?"

Milo sought her out with his eyes again and she nodded. She knew that they needed to talk, they had avoided it long enough.

He rode deeper into the forest and she followed, keeping her eyes locked on his back. She was a bundle of emotions, and she couldn't seem to get a grip on them. She was angry, she was hurt, she felt vulnerable, she was excited, she was... her train of thought was disrupted when Milo dismounted. He went over to her, standing by her side inclining his head so that their eyes met.

"I don't want to fight," he said softly. The words seemed to reverberate inside of her, stirring more emotions. She didn't know why he affected her like this.

"Neither do I..."

He smiled at her words and as her shoulders relaxed she realized just how tense she had been. She took another deep breath and let herself go a little bit more.

"Then why do you?" he asked, and now it was her time to smile.

"Because I care..."

This time he didn't respond immediately, instead he looked questioning, twitching his eyebrows now and then as if deep in thought. Then he took hold of her hand, and it felt like her skin caught fire.

"Care for what?"

"You silly, I care about you. Whenever I see you sink deeper into the darkness I care. I hate to see you like this. I hate to see you shutting off. I know you're not like this. I know you're caving under this fucking world. It's not fair, why you? Why? Why can't you just be..." she silenced. Her voice had grown more desperate with each word, and in the end she had lost control. She didn't know what she wanted to say, or yes she did, but she couldn't say it.

Suddenly she couldn't stop herself, words that she never had planned to say started to burst from her in a stream of pent up emotions. "I never intended for this to happen. I never intended to care. For Io's sake I was going to kill you, and now all I can think about is you, your fate, your mood, you you you. I can't take it, it's driving me insane!"

"You never intended for what to happen?" he asked, his voice like a caress.

She couldn't say it. She couldn't answer him. He would never know...

-----

Milo watched her tear-stricken face, saw her eyes plead for something, something that she refused to share with him. His heart thundered within his chest, beating fiercely. These last few days, no, last few weeks had been both pleasure and pain. He had lost track of everything, lost track of himself. He didn't know who he was anymore, and the only thing that kept him going, no the only one who kept him going had given him hell when he had needed her the most. She had been there to keep him from falling completely, but she hadn't given him what he craved for: the thing he could no longer hold back himself.

Just as he dared to look at her directly again she withdrew her hand from his hold.

"Okay, now you know why I'm bitching. Can we go back?"

His world seemed to stop. The total lack of emotion in her words tore something apart within him, but he couldn't let it show. He tried to clear his head but it didn't work. He just looked away, nodded in response and got back to his horse. Had he stayed, if he had continued to delve into her eyes he would have seen her break, he would have seen something die in her eyes, just as it did in his.